


(ir)responsible

by blowhard



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Asian-American Character, Definitely canon compliant, M/M, Raves, Recreational Drug Use, as i am definitely an nctzen, based on my very extensive knowledge of nct, just kidding, sloppy dumb soft jaehyun, uptight roll kill doyoung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 22:24:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16334375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blowhard/pseuds/blowhard
Summary: Doyoung just came here to listen to music. He doesn't know why Jaehyun is here.





	(ir)responsible

**Author's Note:**

  * For [friday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/friday/gifts).



> warning: i dont know much abt nct except jungwoo snoopy and haechan voice of the 3rd-5th korean wave generations

Doyoung looks at his screen, or tries to at least. His eyes have been wiggling non-stop for the past twenty minutes, and as soon as he focuses on what are supposed to be giant numbers, his nerves betray him, eyes rolling up and hiding in nervous pleasure behind his enhanced lids.  He wants to vomit. He always almost does when he’s coming up. But right now, he’s just trying to see — wow, this song is great — how much longer — oh, that’s a new light feature — he has — how long has he been holding his breath for? —before he has to suck it up and drive everyone back.

 

“Fuck.” It’s said through a clenched jaw, and he thinks he might feel his teeth slowly sanding down, almost gritty in what he ignores as slightly iron-flavored saliva. Jaehyun drags a palm down the front of his loose tank, trailing hot down his abdomen despite the slight clamminess of his lagging fingers.

 

“Relax.”

 

Usually it’s a lot easier to ignore that disgusting drop in his stomach when Jaehyun, ever straightforward and emboldened by God for giving him that face, sucks up to him in some kind of faux deference, lays a solid hand on him for reassurance, or whatever affectionate bullshit he’s on at the time. Usually Doyoung is not rolling his fucking face off in an industrially air conditioned 250% humidity warehouse with three thousand other people. It takes every bit of physical strength and seemingly inhuman willpower to not melt into his grasp, and Doyoung takes one shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes tightly so as to not get distracted by the lasers, and shrugs Jaehyun off.

 

“I need to get some water.”

 

“Hyung.” It’s drawn out, almost whiny.  Doyoung hopes the feeling in his chest is a heart attack and nothing more.

 

But he reaches blindly behind him and embarrassingly? surprisingly? intuitively? grabs for Jaehyun’s  _actually fucking extended_  hand. Jaehyun squeezes like he’s found a lifeline and Doyoung’s brain quietly goes from irritated to blank as he pushes through literal tons of people toward the water station.

  


 

“Hyung.”

 

The baby’s whining again where they’re standing amidst the sweltering crowd, bass booming so hard it makes Doyoung's teeth vibrate. He is just trying to listen to some music while Jaehyun’s taken to some kind of hand massage thing, rolling Doyoung’s sweaty fingers and palms around in his own still clammy ones. Every squeeze eats away at Doyoung’s weakening defenses, each honorific from Jaehyun a persistent hammer and chisel to his usually pristine wall. But is Doyoung so easy? He tips his head back, drinking some water to cool down. It’s sharp, stings his giant teeth, but the sensation of it cutting through his burning brings a clarity to his rapidly fogging mind.

 

“Hey,” he says to the head lolling off his right shoulder. The head does not respond.

 

“Jaehyun,” he says. Jaehyun lifts his head to face him. His hair is sticking every which way, tiny iridescent specks of glitter gleaming off his cheekbones he definitely did not arrive with. His eyes are shut peacefully as he takes a tremendous breath through his nose, diaphragm puffing up, and–

 

Doyoung waits several beats while Jaehyun holds his breath.

 

“Yes, hyung?” he breathes out for what seems like ages, holding onto the  _hyung_ , his tongue sounding heavy and lazy in his mouth, then crumples back onto his favorite place in the world (Doyoung's right shoulder. His words, not Doyoung’s) and continues squeezing his hand, chewing his gum distractedly.

 

“Where’s Jungwoo?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Where. Is. Jungwoo.”

 

“Uh,” he says dumbly and suddenly takes both of Doyoung’s hands, pressing his face into the flat of his palms. The music swells, a collective and almost tangible anticipation building in the room, and Jaehyun starts raggedly breathing in the space between his brought together pinkies.

 

Doyoung does little to restrain his non-ecstasy induced eye roll. “Jaehyun.” 

 

“I’m sorry!” Jaehyun looks immediately and inappropriately apologetic, big stupid googly eyes pleading. “I’m...” His head lolls about, going slightly cross-eyed when he makes eye contact with Doyoung. “What were you asking me again?” slurring hard.

 

Doyoung takes Jaehyun’s face into his hands and tries not to feel anything when Jaehyun melts dreamily into his touch. “Where is Jungwoo,” he demands firmly. 

 

He cracks his left eye open, smile stretchy across his kind of sticky, pale face. His right cheek squishes as he rests his weight in hand, making him look soft and doughy. “Hyung,” and Doyoung wants him to stop calling him that and also never stop calling him that and where is this coming from, “he’s with Lucas and Kun near the booth.” And as if reading his mind, Jaehyun reaches up and grasps weakly at one of the wrists near his face, almost slapping himself. “But just stay here. With me,” managing a soft whine through the end.

 

Jaehyun just looks so pathetic. How can he say no to that?

 

But what is he supposed to say when Jaehyun shifts his face to the right and presses his slightly chapped lips against his palm? Tilts up and mouths up the length of his fingers, still dewy from the water bottle?

 

“Uh.” This is not the show Doyoung paid $128 with fees for. “Are you okay?”

 

“‘M thirsty,” mumbles Jaehyun into his middle and ring fingers and time seems to dilate as Doyoung lets his gaze linger. He then rips his hands from his face, reaching over to give him the water bottle. Jaehyun takes a delicate sip but still manages to miss his mouth, water cascading down his neck and past the low dip of his own tank. Doyoung absolutely does not see this in slow motion.

 

“No,” says Doyoung, “more,” tipping the bottle higher with a single finger. Jaehyun leans back and almost immediately drops like an unbalanced scale, yet is somehow saved by the ever prepared Doyoung, hand ready at the back of his head. He grips the short strands there and watches Jaehyun's eyes roll back and flutter. “You good?”

 

“Bruh,” says the big bowl of Jaelatin, suddenly in his bubble, strong but wobbly arms going under his lithe ones to wrap around his long torso, shoving his face in the moist junction between his long neck and bony shoulder, and sighing contentedly into his newfound Doyoung home. “Sooo good. Thanks for asking.” The pleased hum in his chest as he exhales seems like a melodic purr.  

 

Doyoung’s arms hang dumbly over Jaehyun’s shoulders like an awkward slow dance. The song he paid money to hear was about to transition in. He had planned everything precisely: the time they’d arrive, how long it would take to get from the lot to the venue, the length of the refreshments line, the perfect moment to take his imported European pressed pill, all so that he would be peaking or close to it during This Song, and the perfect amount of time to stick around ‘til his pupils would go back to normal.

 

And yet, here he was, coddling Jaehyun once again like he never left the nest. He has no idea what he’s making Doyoung miss ou–

 

“Your favorite song,” Jaehyun coos, turning his face, lips brushing against Doyoung’s overextended Adam’s apple, overheated body slotting against his, and immediately Doyoung's racing thoughts center and bloom, as if this was meant to happen all along. The drugs make the proximity good but Jaehyun’s endearment better and Doyoung recognizes the want in the song suddenly being projected through him and this is so corny but he can no longer restrain himself from wrapping his noodly arms around Jaehyun.

 

Jaehyun’s unsteadiness makes him seem like liquid, and at once, Doyoung feels like he is drowning.

**Author's Note:**

> tricked into writing this prompt: "WAIT LOL fic where dojae take molly and while jaehyun is f*cking blissed out and getting his hands all over doyoung, doyoung is just at the rave anxious and sweating like a pig and annoyed af at the whole situation" thank u @mouthkissed for providing the inspo for me to publish smth 4 da 1st time since got2015 (lol) and also sorry for any inaccuracies. i should vacay more in ncity 
> 
> also i don't condone consumption of illegal substances but if in case you are using please exercise caution!


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